


Ever After (the bit player remix)

by Netgirl_y2k



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: 5 Things, Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netgirl_y2k/pseuds/Netgirl_y2k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever After (the bit player remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ever After](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8606) by fallingtowers. 



_i. the rat king's daughter_

House Frey is an ally of the Lannisters, but Roslin is no longer a Frey. She's a Tully now, wife of Lord Edmure, wedded, bedded, and handed over to the lions with the other noble hostages. 

There are three of them; Roslin, her lord husband, and his niece. Lady Sansa survived the Red Wedding mostly by chance and was thrown into the dungeons in the immediate aftermath. Roslin thinks that perhaps that was for the best, that way she didn't witness the mutilation of her brother's body, or the mockery of House Tully's funeral custom that had some of Roslin's brothers and cousins roaring with laughter. She didn't have to see her Hound cut up and fed to the dogs. 

Edmure's moods shift quick like the fish he is. Sometimes he hunkers down in the saddle in sullen, grieving silence, and sometimes he rages, swearing that the Freys will be destroyed root and stem for this treachery, only to quiet down and look guiltily at Roslin. 

Sansa rides in silence, straight backed, and wrapped in cloak which is many times too big for her and which may have been white in some previous life. Roslin sees the north in the set of her jaw, the winds of winter in her eyes, and thinks that if doom is indeed coming to House Frey it will not be at Edmure's hands.

 

_ii. the goat-footed girl_

Mya is the one who finds him. Body broken and pulped from the fall, eyes taken by the crows, and a hand by some larger scavenger. Recognisable as the lord protector only by his fine clothes and mockingbird pin. 

Bells toll their grief over mountain and through vale, much as they had when the little lordling had died, and no one had been grieving then either. 

By the time she gets up to the Eyrie Lady Myranda is already with Alayne. 

"She's distraught, poor thing," coos Randa, almost as if she's enjoying this. 

Alayne is curled up into herself, her thin shoulders trembling, and when she meets Mya's gaze her eyes shine wetly with tears. 

And the funny thing is that Alayne Stone, the only person in the Vale who'd seemed to genuinely grieve for little Lord Robin, doesn't look distraught at all.

 

_iii. the mermaid bride_

Wylla Manderly has been betrothed to Rickon Stark since the young lord and his wildling protector were brought to White Harbor by Ser Davos. 

Wylla thinks Rickon is very brave and fierce and will be pleased to marry him when they are old enough. But Rickon is serving as a squire in the Merman's Court and, although her grandfather has joked that she might benefit from a few years as a squire herself, Wylla has been sent north to act as a lady-in-waiting to Rickon's sister, the Lady Sansa, the Stark in Winterfell. 

Wylla is slightly in awe of Sansa, and not just because of that story about how she helped to kill The Mountain the Rides, returned from the dead to torment the living. 

"Why do it?" she asks. "Why knight your men yourself?"

The other ladies-in-waiting cluck disapprovingly, moving around the manservant returning the greatsword to its place on the wall, they all think Wylla talks too much. But Lady Sansa understands, she knows that Wylla is going to be queen in the north when Rickon is king, and that she only wants to be good at it, like Sansa is. 

Sansa regards Wylla seriously. "It's something my father used to tell my brothers: the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."

 

 _iv. the sworn shield_

Brienne grew up hearing tales of Barristan the Bold. Even Jaime had admired Ser Barristan. 

"Ser, if it because I am a woman--"

"It is not. It's true a woman has never served on the kingsguard - queensguard - but until today a woman had never been named Hand. And I have received reports of your bravery and valour during the Battle of the Wall, many of them from my lady hand herself."

Brienne frowns. "Then--"

"You have served Lady Sansa for a long time, I understand?"

"When Lady Catelyn was alive I swore an oath to find and protect her daughters, and when I finally found Sansa I laid my sword at her feet and swore to protect her and follow her anywhere."

"And you followed her straight to Queen Daenerys' banners, and we are grateful. But my question to you, Lady Brienne, is this: if the queen were to give one order and the hand another which one would you follow?"

If Sansa gave Brienne one order and Daenerys another, Brienne thinks she might finally, finally understand Ser Jaime. 

"That would never happen, I know no one more loyal to the queen than my lady."

"But if it did?" Ser Barristan asks with infinite patience.

"If the Gods were that cruel, then Sansa is my lady but Her Grace is my queen."

The Lord Commander seems satisfied with that answer and dismisses Brienne. 

At the bottom of White Sword Tower Brienne finds Sansa Stark waiting for her, chain of the Hand of the Queen bright around her neck, but outshone in Brienne's eyes by the cloak of pure white hanging over her arms.

"Kneel, Lady Brienne of the Queensguard."

 

_v. the she-wolf's litter_

Nymeria Dayne sits practicing embroidery with her septa. Septa Eafa smiles in approval at her stitches. 

Outside she can hear the sounds of her brothers, Jon and Beric, practicing at swords, and the giggles as baby Sansa plays at squiring for both boys. She doesn't have to venture into the yard to know that her lady mother will be looking on approvingly. 

Once, Nymeria had confided in her septa that she didn't think her mother liked her as much as her brothers and sister because she was more interested in sewing and stories than swords and hunting. Septa Eafa had looked seriously at her and said, "Do you know what they call your mother?"

"The She-Wolf of Starfall."

"There's a saying in the north: when winter comes the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. You are your mother's pack, and she loves you all with equal fierceness, as befits a she-wolf."

Nymeria is jolted out of her reverie by her brother Jon clattering into the room; she frowns at him, he made her drop a stitch.

Most of the Dayne children share their father's Dornish, almost Valyrian features, except Jon who has their mother's grey eyes and a long face that would appear solemn if he ever stopped smiling. 

"Nym! Mother wants you upstairs for supper." Jon sketches a bow, all of Lady Arya's children have had their ears tweaked by her at one point or another for not showing their aunt-the-septa enough respect. "Septa, she asked for you too."

"Are you coming, Septa?" Nymeria asks. 

"In a moment. Go on up to your mother, and tell little Sansa that if she eats all her supper I'll tell her a story before bed."


End file.
